


We were young once (innocent and fun once)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beta Derek Hale, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pining, School Reunion, Stiles Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: So maybe making Lydia jealous is just an excuse for him to finally talk to Derek Hale - it’s been ten years and clearly that high school crush is not over. There’s just a lot more to Derek than he was expecting.





	We were young once (innocent and fun once)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bee4u](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee4u/gifts).



It has been ten years since he last saw those eyes. And that ass. Oh, That Ass. 

Mostly That Ass - he wouldn’t dare look high school royalty in the eye back then. Not someone like Derek Hale, who almost single-handedly put their sports teams on the map for college scouts. He was probably the reason Boyd got a college scholarship and managed to get into the same school as his girlfriend Erica.

Shame he managed to do something similar for Jackson fucking Whittemore. 

Okay, so maybe Stiles has a little bit of a vendetta against that guy, because screw him and his stupid model good looks and his being the reason Stiles and Lydia broke up. 

He knows, okay? He knows that Lydia never really got over Jackson, and that when he showed up on the East Coast, with a seven figure contract for a soccer team, it was bound to be game over for Stydia (thanks for that portmanteau, Scott, really). It’s just that Lydia was his dream girl, and he hasn’t yet found someone who challenges him that much. 

Would they have worked out if Jackson hadn’t showed up? Most likely not. 

But he’s still glaring at Jackson from across the room and pretending that Lydia hasn’t linked arms with his father’s second-hottest deputy. He’s not even sure if she’s actually involved with Parrish (Stiles could have sworn he had a thing going with Laura Hale), but it’s definitely making Jackson jealous. 

And maybe that’s the goal here. 

Well, maybe two can play that game. Maybe he can actually surprise Lydia for once, and maybe he can finally act on that stupid crush he had in high school at the same time. 

Because it might have taken him ten years (at least), but he’s finally going to talk to Derek Hale. And say actual words, instead of mumbled pre-verbal sounds. 

This is not going to be a repeat of senior year. 

When Lydia finally notices him, after he’s been not quite staring at her for about twenty minutes, he finds himself sitting right next to Derek Hale. On purpose, because he’s a creepy little shit who always has a plan. 

“I’m going to need your hand for a bit.” 

Those are the first words he says to Derek Hale in ten years - because for some reason he’s never run into his high school classmate over the years, even though Beacon HIlls is not that big and he tries to make the trip a couple of times a year. His dad needs him, that’s the excuse. That and Scott is here, still, now running the vet clinic he used to work at after school, ever since Deaton disappeared to… somewhere only he knows. 

Derek’s heavy eyebrows arch in surprise. “Just my hand?” 

But there was no Derek. He’s never seen Derek on any of his visits. Even though he really should have - seeing as the guy works with his father. Yes, of course Derek Hale is his father’s actual hottest deputy. Stiles is a bisexual with eyes. 

“I’m not sure that I can lay claim to the attached physique,” he tries his most disarming grin on Derek. “But if you’ll let me hold your hand for a bit, I’ll owe you a favor.” 

And he really wants Derek to call in that favor. Really, whatever he wants. Stiles is kind of hoping that it will be something naughty - his thrill-seeking did not end in high school and Derek Hale continues to be hot like burning. Even hotter, really. 

“And this has nothing to do with Lydia Martin?” Derek is also still very much a skeptic. 

Stiles just shrugs. “Of course it does.”

If it were anyone else, he would not have spoken the truth. Why tell the truth when a lie was the safer and less embarrassing option? 

But this is Derek Hale. He’s never met a lie he couldn’t see through somehow. Stiles would almost call it his superpower. 

“I didn’t think you’d admit it,” Derek’s eyebrows are worth more than a thousand words. 

They’d been so ill-suited to him as a teenager, but he really has grown into his looks. He looks like a man, strong enough to take down anyone who dared bully Stiles. Not that he was expecting that to happen - not anymore. Jackson had grown up that much. 

Was that part of Derek’s appeal for him? The idea he’d gain a protector?

Ugh, his brain continues to be over-analytical and The Worst. 

“I haven’t forgotten your reputation as a human lie detector,” he lets himself reach for Derek’s hand again. . 

Derek lets it happen this time. “And you’ve managed to overcome your pathological lying?” 

Has Derek always run this hot? He’s talking literally this time, because Derek’s hand is big and strong and a lot warmer than he’d been expecting. It’s nice, actually. Even though this is California and cold never seems to make it hear, Stiles tends to have cold hands a lot of the time. Derek is like a living space heater. 

“I grew up,” Stiles tries not to stare at their hands, intertwined as they are. “Somehow. Don’t know how that happened.” 

“Lie.” Derek calls him out on it. 

He pouts a little, because he has never quite grown out of that particular childish habit, and he watches Derek’s gaze focus on his lips for a second or so longer than is polite. 

That is the most interesting thing that’s happened to him in a while. 

“Really?” He continues to pout, because now he knows it works. “You’re not letting me have that one?” 

The effect of the pout is only temporary, it seems, because Derek is back to his usual resting bitchface within seconds. It’s disappointing, because wouldn’t it be great if he got a happy ending ten years in the making out of this stupid weekend? 

He’s been (mostly) on the nice side this year, even though his thoughts about Derek were leaning heavily towards the naughty side. 

His overactive imagination can sometimes be a blessing. 

“Give you an inch, and you’ll take a mile,” Derek smirks at him, all sass. 

Well, that’s definitely something he’s heard before, almost to the letter. Which means that it is extremely easy for him to pinpoint just how Derek came to believe this ridiculous exaggeration. AKA the honest and naked truth. 

Stiles is very aware of his Slytherin status. And proud of it. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with my dad,” Stiles can’t help but be pleased. 

Sure, he can try to sound frustrated about that particular combination of some of his favorite people, but he’s heard some of his Dad’s stories. The man adores Derek almost as much as he does Parrish - Jordan only wins because he’s a lot less strict about enforcing the strict diet Stiles handed to all the deputies when he moved away. 

Derek is completely straight-faced. “I have been properly warned.” 

“Wow, maybe I should rethink coming back,” Stiles drops that knowledge on Derek just to see how he’ll respond. 

Does Derek already know that he’s been transferred to the California office? Does he know that Stiles has been accepted into a new, elite unit? Shit, not even Stiles knows exactly what he’ll be doing in his new unit (except for a fuckton of research), but he’s excited. DC has long since lost its nonexistent glow to him.

And he just really wants to be with his family - see his dad more than three times a year, watch Scott’s kids grow up and be the best uncle Stiles he can be. 

“What?” Derek tries to hide his surprise - and fails. 

“I figured Pops would have shared that one with the class,” Stiles tries to hide how pleased he is with Derek’s response - and probably fails. “Maybe even put up warning signs.” 

They’re still holding hands. It would be awkward if they paid too much attention to it, so Stiles really tries to keep his disobedient brain focused. 

Except hands of Derek. Derek’s strong hands. Hands with no calluses - which is surprising with all of the physical labor and stunt work Derek’s been performing for the Sheriff’s department. He must have a really elaborate moisturizing regime. 

The hardest part: not thinking about where he wants those hands to be. He can save those thoughts for when he’s back home in his childhood bedroom. 

Seriously, his next step should be getting a place of his own here. It’s embarrassing having to live with his dad, even for a little while. He loves his dad, of course he does, but being twenty-eight and having to bite a pillow because he can’t be loud? Not fun. 

“So that’s what that extra meeting will be about,” Derek is surprisingly funny. 

Which…. It’s not like he really got to know Derek before. Maybe Derek has always been funny, in that same dry way that Boyd has. Stiles has kept in touch with Erica, he knows all about how sneaky Boyd can be with his stupid jokes. 

“Oh yeah, all Stiles all the time,” he grins at Derek. “That’s all you’re going to discuss. I’m sure my dad has a ton of contingency plans prepared.” 

Still with the hand holding. He is not getting over that any time soon - even though he is getting greedy, wanting more than just the hand he asked for. 

It might even look weird, with them sitting together at a table on the edge of the dance floor - because people just aren’t ready for his moves yet - leaning in and holding hands like they’re still the teenagers they left behind a decade ago. 

And then it hits him. This is never going to work on Lydia. 

She is never going to get jealous over him - she’s over it, over him. And he’s over her, mostly, but this reunion has made him feel small and insignificant and lonely. He’s not that kid anymore, the one that people used to know - but still these strangers know more about him than everyone in DC combined. 

“I can give you your hand back if you want,” he offers, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence. “Lydia isn’t even looking at us.”

He expects Derek to yank his hand back forcefully, and yet, nothing happens. He doesn’t even move, only his muscles (damn good muscles too) tense up. So Stiles leaves his hand and waits for Derek to respond - it’s not like he minds holding Derek’s hand. Shit, he’d absolutely keep doing it if Derek wanted him to. 

But Derek stays quiet, his eyes focused not on Lydia, but on Parrish. And that look is not a particularly happy one. 

“Oh, shit, Parrish and Laura, right?” Stiles grabs hold of that errant thought he’d had earlier. 

“Laura said they were never really together,” Derek almost growls, grip on Stiles’ hand tightening ever so slightly. 

Strong hands. Nice hands. Ugh, get it together, Stiles. 

Laura’s actually the older sibling, but Derek has overprotective big brother written all over him right about now. And Stiles is an only child, but he knows the feeling. Because every time Scott and Allison broke up and got back together, Stiles found his inner mama bear - he hates it when his brother is hurting.

And Scott isn’t even actually his brother. Also, Stiles is a Slytherin and Derek is clearly a Hufflepuff. Loyalty is definitely a thing for him, which makes it a kink for Stiles. 

“Doesn’t mean she can’t be upset,” Stiles sees right through the hole in that story. 

“Yeah,” Derek trails off, glaring at Parrish. 

Stiles has no idea what’s going on here, really, but he really just wants to get that angry/sad look off Derek’s face. And so he goes for his classic solution - the distraction. 

“Want to stir some shit?” Stiles is always up for shenanigans. “Because I’m happy to go over there and mess with him a little bit.” 

He doesn’t hate Parrish, and he tries not to have anything against Lydia, but this is Derek, his stupid high school crush. He’s just figuring out that he’s not quite over that one, not like he always thought he was. 

Sure, he’s been thinking about Derek through the years, on and off. But that does not anything special make. Being faced with him though, and actually interacting with him, it makes all the silly high school feelings pop right back up. It makes him want things, makes him think of stupid shit he can pull so that Derek sticks around. 

“I can’t,” Derek sounds frustrated about it. “We work together.” 

There’s still a bit of a growl to Derek’s voice - it is kind of turning him on a little. It’s the animalistic, rough feeling he exudes - Stiles just really likes strong men who can throw him around a little in bed. 

“I don’t work with either of you. And you’re my favorite deputy.” He just blurts it out. 

With Derek’s human lie detector skills, he will know right away that Stiles is actually telling the truth. Which is the embarrassing part of the deal. Because it’s not like Stiles wanted to admit it - or even that he is kind of not supposed to play favorites. Though, neither is his dad, and the man makes it very obvious that he likes Parrish more than most others, even though Derek comes a close second. 

“Because you make my dad eat his vegetables,” he has to at least try to get away with the excuse. 

Of course Derek doesn’t buy it - he is way too good at reading people. And Stiles is not normally so easy to read. But still, Derek lets it go this time. Stiles is certainly not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. 

“Dude,” he cringes at his own stupid nickname, “this could totally be that favor I owe you. I will even give you a bonus favor to use after this, because I still haven’t managed to let go of your hand. And I’m probably just going to make it worse.” 

Dude? Really? That’s what he’s going for? This is Derek Hale, Stiles has no interest in treating him like he’s a frat bro he met in college. He is interested in Derek in a whole different way, and now he’s being awkward again. 

“I’ll tell Laura it was all you,” Derek is trying hard not to let the grin come out. 

“I make a good scapegoat,” Stiles nods. 

He attempts to drag Derek out of his seat, but the guy is clearly too strong for him. When Derek finally decides to get up of his own volition, Stiles almost falls on his ass because he is not expecting the sudden shift. 

That’s when Derek easily pulls him back into a standing position, just a lot closer than he was before his almost faceplant. He’s suddenly close enough to touch a lot more than just Derek’s hand, and a million naughty thoughts start running through his head at once, while he just continues to stare at Derek. 

Derek’s nostrils flare briefly before he lets go of Stiles’ hand - disappointing. His hand feels weird now, cold and lonely and… oh, that’s better. 

The hand-holding has been replaced by Derek’s strong arm wrapped dangerously low around Stiles’ waist - not that Stiles would mind if that hand moved even lower. He would never be opposed to ass-grabbing from a guy he’s interested in. He’s got a pretty good ass, he can’t blame them. 

It’s not as great as Derek’s though. Hot damn!

“I assume that means you’re in,” Stiles tries not to trip over his own feet (again). 

There is no verbal response from Derek, but he still manages to keep Stiles steady as they make their way to the dancefloor. Which is a miracle in and of itself. 

Oh, fuck, are they actually going to dance? Because there is no way that Derek is ready for his moves. No one is, not usually. He is one of a kind and for some reason people just never expect the unexpected. 

“We should dance first,” Derek does not seem to realize what he’s in for. 

“Are you sure?” He has to ask. 

Most people tend to get embarrassed when he dances - which is usually just evident of their terrible taste because he likes dancing, goes all in and uses his whole body at all times. Is it the most elegant style of dance? Fuck no. But is it fun? Fuck yes. 

Derek smirks at him. “I remember prom. I’m sure.” 

Shit, he didn’t even know Derek knew he existed back then - well, okay, people always knew he existed because he was the sheriff’s son and they had to be careful what they said and did around him because they always thought he’d snitch on them. Even at prom they believed he’d tell on the person spiking the punch - and that person was Stiles himself, so clearly most of his classmates were idiots. 

But Derek remembering his weird drunk dancing from Prom night ten years ago? He’s just not sure that could ever be a good thing. It’s not like it’d be the good kind of memorable. 

“So clearly you’ve seen my best work,” Stiles lets Derek lead him to the middle of the dancefloor. “I’m not sure I can top that.” 

When they find a relatively open spot, Derek just twirls him out of nowhere, making Stiles squeak in surprise and then laugh with delight. Apparently Derek is giving zero fucks about people noticing them dancing together, and acting like complete idiots. 

“We can try,” Derek tells him solemnly. 

It takes only half a song for people to start giving them a wide berth - which is pretty smart of them. Stiles has already taught Derek the sprinkler and almost poked Greenberg’s eye out while doing so, and then a slow song comes on. Which just makes it difficult to keep being weird - he wouldn’t mind slow dancing with Derek. 

“C’mere,” Derek pulls him in close. 

How does he make that look so easy? He is almost supernaturally graceful about it, pulling Stiles close to his warmth with the exact right amount of strength needed. And they fit so well together, almost the same height but with Derek’s warm bulk surrounding him. Stiles can almost feel the shockwave going through the gym with this sight. He has to distract himself. 

“Going to teach me some of your moves?” Stiles teases, hiding his face in the crook of Derek’s neck. “I’m in, Yoda. Just don’t forget about the mission.” 

Because they’re so close, he can feel Derek’s chuckles as well as hear them, and it’s kind of a lot. Sure, this is just a distraction so that everyone will think they’re together and they can confront Lydia and Parrish, but he’s starting to feel a little distracted himself. 

Derek is probably the only one who isn’t fooled by all of this. 

“How many of your fanclub members want to kill me right about now?” Stiles has to keep talking. 

If he’s silent, his usually so unfocused brain will have no choice but to focus on this, to analyze every single point on his body that is touching Derek’s. And there are many of those, so many that he wonders if he’ll keep feeling Derek pressed against him long after they’ve separated. Just as long as he does not think of all of the other things they could be doing while they’re within touching distance, he will be fine. 

“Thirteen,” Derek sounds so serious. 

Like he’s actually spotting all of these people, like he knows somehow just who’s contemplating murder just so they can take Stiles’ place - if Derek would let them. 

“And here I am without my gun,” Stiles tries to keep up the jokes. 

“I’ll protect you.” 

He can’t look at Derek, because if he does, he’ll find out that Derek is just teasing him and that’s probably going to break his heart a little. Shit, everything he’s discovering about Derek so far is just drawing him further into that stupid crush. 

Now it’s never going to go away - and he’s going to be seeing Derek around town in the future, so that is just going to be horrendously awkward. 

“Why thank you, Deputy Hale,” Stiles finds himself flirting a little, regardless of the undoubtedly painful consequences. 

It takes a lot of effort, but he’s able to hold back any filthy comments about handcuffs currently popping into his head. It’s a good thing Derek cannot read his mind, because he’d run the fuck away while he still could. 

They continue moving slowly to the music - it’s some shitty song that was popular when they graduated, of course - and Stiles is so caught up in trying to remember which song it is that he almost doesn’t notice when Derek sniffs at the crook of his neck. A shiver runs through his body, because that’s really nice but also what the fucking what? 

“Time for the plan?” Stiles pretends his voice doesn’t crack like a teenager’s. 

Derek just sniffed him. He is going to need a whole bunch of minutes and some more distance to figure that shit out - but all evidence is pointing to Derek not finding him as repulsive as he thought. Which…. How? What? How? 

“As you wish,” Derek’s voice is hoarse. 

And seriously? Has Derek seen the movie, or read the book? Because there is no idea that he knows what he’s saying. No freaking way. 

“Okay, good,” he stammers awkwardly. 

He lets Derek lead him in the direction of the bar, because they could probably use a drink, and they’ll run into Lydia and Parrish on the way. It’s a nice excuse, and the fact that he hasn’t stopped touching Derek since they first held hands is absolutely going to help - even though it’s kind of a lot at this point. 

Pretending not to notice them is no use, because Lydia sees everything and everyone, and he has no doubt that Parrish is supposed to keep a bit of an eye on him for his dad. Because Parrish is the favorite, and he probably wants to keep it that way. 

“Nice moves, Stiles,” Lydia moves first, because of course she does. 

Lydia shares a pointed look with Derek, glancing at the way he’s pulled Stiles close yet again, like the possessive and territorial boyfriend he’s pretending to be. 

“It’s about time,” Parrish grins as he looks at the two of them together. 

Stiles has to work so hard not to show any surprise at that, because did everyone know about his pathetic crush? Sure, most people don’t exactly accuse him of being subtle, but he figured most people thought he’d never notice anyone but Lydia. 

Guess that was a nice delusion he could no longer live in. 

“Derek finally stopped resisting my many charms.” 

Sarcasm is his only defense, always has been. And it works for him, because people usually laugh and move on - but not this time. 

Derek is super tense, and he’s hiding from Lydia’s glares for some reason and clearly there is a lot more going on than he knows about. Which is not something that happens to him often, just right now and in his job interview for the California office. They asked him some leading questions that he’s sure he lacked context on. 

And yet, somehow he got the job. 

“Still, Derek?” Lydia asks with an exasperated sigh. “Rules are made to be broken.” 

And now Derek can’t even look at him anymore, even though they’re still all cuddled up together. Which is weird, because clearly Lydia is seeing right through their facade, and Jordan as well. Who are they trying to fool now, everyone else? 

“I love breaking the rules,” Stiles knows he sounds way too enthusiastic about that. “They’ll probably try to take back my badge for that, but it’s still true.” 

Should he be saying this in front of two deputies? Probably not. But he’s desperate to get the missing pieces of information - because there is something that can make all of this make sense somehow. There is some kind of secret that Derek is keeping that has to do with this fake relationship, and it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with feelings. 

Because that would be ridiculous. 

“Tell him,” Parrish is staring at Derek. “Don’t wait another ten years.” 

Wait, what? This is actually a thing? There is actually something that Derek has been waiting to tell him for ten years? Or maybe not exactly waiting to tell him, but something that Derek should have told him back when they were in high school. 

But Derek hardly even knew he existed in high school, or did he? 

“Tell him or I will,” Lydia Martin is not fucking around, as usual. 

Derek growls. “Fine. You win.” 

He continues to hold on to Stiles as they walk away from the crowd, dragging him along as they exit the gym. Yes, his manhandling kick is alive and kicking, and there are a few errant thoughts that try their hardest to distract him from what’s going on, but mostly he is trying to figure shit out before Derek comes up with another story. 

“Tell me,” Stiles orders when they finally find a private area. 

They’re near the lacrosse field where Stiles has warmed many a bench, and while he’d love to just drown in the embarrassing high school memories…. There is still something seriously weird going on with Derek Hale and that’s way more important. 

But Derek’s still not talking. Stiles might have to make him. 

“Derek, I had a pathetic crush on you in high school,” he just starts rambling. “I used to go to basketball games so I could pine at you from the bleachers. When I tutored Cora I kept hoping you’d be around, but you never were. Not that I didn’t genuinely want to help Cora because she’s a badass and way smarter than people give her credit for. I looked for you every time I was in town to visit my dad. But nope, no you. Never. Not once.” 

And he’d been disappointed every single time. Because sometimes he talked to Laura, and helped Talia avoid that horrible gossip at the diner. He had drinks with Cora a time or two, and while they always answered his not so subtle questions about Derek, there was no way that he actually got near Derek. 

“Just because you didn’t see me, didn’t mean I didn’t see you.” Derek is blushing. 

Stiles is not having it. “Creepy much? Were you seriously pulling a Twilight? Because, no. That might be the only thing that could make you less attractive.” 

“The only thing?” Derek’s eyebrows speak of his disbelief. 

Still, he’s almost smiling at Stiles, so maybe the random babbling is actually helping him prepare for whatever bomb he’s about to drop on Stiles. And Stiles, he’s always been so good at babbling. 

“Vampires are just a big no-no,” Stiles is going to do whatever it takes to make Derek comfortable enough to tell him. “I’m team Jacob. Or team Rosalie. She’s a badass.” 

That is an actual smile on Derek’s face, and Stiles finds himself blushing under Derek’s heated gaze. Shit, Derek looks like he could just eat him up (yes please), and all he’s done is say stupid stuff about Twilight of all things. 

“I’m a werewolf.” Derek is not looking at him. 

“Of course you are.” 

It’s dismissive, because it’s a ridiculous thing to tell him, especially after the Team Jacob joke he’d made earlier. There is no such thing as actual werewolves. 

Except…

Every single question he’s been asked at his job interview suddenly makes sense. The comments about how the hours would depend on the moon, how they’d wondered about his sense of smell (not as good as some people he knows), how he’d beat a human lie detector (sarcasm and raising his heart rate by other means), and how he couldn’t take the full moon off no matter how much his boyfriend might need him. 

Though why they’d laughed at him when he denied the boyfriend thing…

“Of course you are.” 

It’s a whole different tone this time. Because he can’t dismiss it. Because it’s true. 

“Does my new boss know about you?” Stiles is just listing every question that pops into his head. “Because the boyfriend needing me on the full moon is… still weird but not as much as it was in the interview. Do you need me on the full moon? Were you not supposed to tell me because of some statute of secrecy or whatever? Was that why you were hiding from me when I was in town? Who else knows? Am I the last one to know? Is there a reason why I’m supposed to know or not know? Why are you telling me now? Does it have anything to do with the smelling me? Because I know you sniffed me earlier.” 

The list of questions does not appear nearly as overwhelming to Derek as Stiles has been expecting. Derek is still staring at him, gaze still burning, a delighted and almost demented grin appearing on his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“You believe me,” he steps closer to Stiles. 

“Was I not supposed to?” Stiles doesn’t even flinch, moving himself within touching distance of Derek. “Am I supposed to call you a liar?” 

Maybe ten years ago he would have thought that this was a stupid prank. Maybe that’s why Derek didn’t tell him then. 

“You didn’t even ask for proof,” Derek reaches for his hand, and Stiles lets him. “You are the research master and you believe me without proof.” 

“Are you calling me stupid? Gullible?” Stiles still has no idea where this is going. 

Derek holds his hand and smiles. “You’re perfect.”

That is not a platonic perfect - there is no way that any of this is platonic. Which is probably an even bigger surprise than the whole werewolf thing, if he’s honest. 

“You like me,” Stiles is suddenly delighted as well. “You really like me, and you’re really shitty at showing it. And now I passed the test. And you’re stuck with me.” 

So if he’d refused to believe Derek without proof, he would have failed. And Derek would have told him it was a joke, or made up an excuse, or something like that. But he didn’t, and now Derek is grinning at him like he’s the best gift anyone could ever give him. 

“You could have made it a lot easier on yourself, you know,” he can’t resist this opportunity to be a brat. “Maybe if you’d actually talked to me instead of being a creeperwolf, I would have believed you a lot sooner.” 

So many wolf jokes - holy shit, this is going to be the greatest thing ever. 

“You were always going to do great things,” Derek ducks his head. “And they weren’t going to be in Beacon Hills. And I was not going to leave - I can’t leave my pack.” 

Mutual pining is just as awesome and stupid as it looks in the movies, apparently. They were both too insecure to even talk to each other, and even now they’re mostly just staring at each other. They’re holding hands and blushing, but neither one dares to make a move. 

It’ll have to be Stiles. Fine. He can do that. 

“You’re an idiot,” Stiles grins at Derek before pulling him in for a kiss. 

And yes, it’s everything his teenage crush told him it would be - and more. 

He sends Lydia flowers on Monday, after he finally leaves Derek’s bed (to get supplies). He owes her that much. 


End file.
